


Stake Your Claim On Me

by helens78



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Established Relationship, Genital Torture, M/M, Podfic Available, Possessive Behavior, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-28
Updated: 2011-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-20 19:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lazy afternoon of pain and pleasure gives Charles a glimpse of something hidden in Erik's mind.  Going after it brings something new out into the open.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stake Your Claim On Me

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been generously podficced by [Rhea](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhea) (thank you!). [You can find the link to the podfic here.](http://amplificathon.livejournal.com/1103309.html)

It's a lazy afternoon. Raven and Hank are doing God-knows-what, Alex and Darwin have decided to hone their pinball skills together, Sean has gone out shopping with Angel, and that leaves Charles and Erik on their own.

They could be researching, or tracking more mutants, or Erik could be doing something related to his ongoing hunt for Shaw. Instead, they're necking on the bed, Charles's shirt unbuttoned to the waist, Erik's turtleneck somewhere across the room.

Erik's in an intense mood today; it would seem odd if he weren't so typically intense. But this is more than most days, different somehow. His teeth graze Charles's neck, just below where his collar lies, where it won't show. Charles senses the harsh burst of lust and need as Erik bites down hard, giving Charles a sharp, gorgeous little spot of pain that's almost certainly going to bruise. While Charles is gasping, recovering from that, Erik rubs his thumb over Charles's nipple, harder and harder until the sensation is more maddening for the threat of pain than for any actual pain it's causing. Finally, finally, he takes Charles's nipple between thumb and forefinger and twists, hard, and Charles nearly sobs with the pain and the relief of finally being allowed that pain. Whatever's going on with Erik today, he seems to be in a mood to work Charles into a frenzy.

The hint of threat comes over Erik's mind like a veil, and his hand moves to Charles's cock, heel of his hand against Charles's shaft, fingers cupping Charles's balls. Charles fidgets, bucks under Erik's hand, but Erik doesn't press down; he just _holds_ Charles, feather-light pressure on sensitive parts that would like much, much more.

"Erik," Charles gasps. " _Erik._ Please..."

He feels it in his mind, not his body: Erik's imagining it, pressing down hard, squeezing Charles's balls to just the other side of pain. Charles gasps, rocks his hips up, presses his cock against Erik's hand. "You bastard," Charles says, breathless. "You teasing bastard. Come on, for God's sake, come on!"

"You really do like being hurt," Erik says; he does a good job of disguising his vocal tone, but in his mind there's something like wonder. _You like this,_ he's thinking, _you like it when I do this._

Charles pushes himself up on his elbows, licks his lips. "I'd like a lot more than that, thank you," he says. Erik's still too busy marveling at him to get on with it, though, and Charles sighs and shakes his head. "Am I really the first masochist you've ever taken as a lover? You certainly enjoy your end of it enough--"

The word _lover_ floats through Erik's mind, colored with a tinge of surprise and incredulity. At first, Charles is a little insulted--if they're not lovers, Erik has a funny way of showing friendship--but he realizes that it's not about him, not born from surprise that Charles thinks of him that way. It's that Charles thinks he's had others.

"Ah," Charles says softly. Erik's lips tighten, but he rocks his hand down, gives Charles some badly-wanted pressure. Charles is quickly saying _ah_ for other reasons entirely, falling back against the bed and losing himself in the sensations.

But Erik's not done teasing him. He takes his hand away, now that Charles is fully hard and practically panting for more. Erik's hand is gone for only moments, though, before there's a thin line of pressure down the center of Charles's cock.

It's his zipper. Charles bends his head up again and looks down, between his legs. Erik's fingertips are floating just above his fly, stroking up and down, slow and even. Charles grunts softly; something about watching Erik hurt him with his power is just--it's undoing him, it's making him need more, so much more. He looks up at Erik with hopeful eyes.

"Could I get you off like this, do you think?" Erik asks.

"With just the zipper? Probably not," Charles admits. "With your hand, with what you were doing earlier? Absolutely."

Erik slides his hand back onto Charles's cock, curls his fingers around Charles's balls again. "I want to see that," he murmurs. "Let's try."

Charles nods with enthusiasm. Trying for something he's been craving almost since the day he met Erik, trying for something his body's already begging for? "God, yes, let's," Charles says, and when Erik presses down hard again, Charles's cock leaps in answer and then throbs with the aching pressure of Erik's hand.

"Do you want--" Charles lifts a hand to his temple, presses two fingers against it. He needs all the help he can get, and even if under normal circumstances he doesn't need the physical crutch to share thoughts with Erik, right now he has a feeling his thoughts won't be very clear without it. //Do you want to feel what I'm feeling?//

Erik shakes his head, which surprises Charles not a bit. Erik likes to deal out pain, is very, very good at it, but he's not much for taking it himself. _More for me,_ Charles has always thought, and right now he's getting more and more by the minute. Erik's calm, patient with him, but under the surface of Erik's thoughts, Charles can sense something else, something a little deeper and harsher than an afternoon's cavorting in bed.

The pain rolls over him in waves, tight pressure against his balls, hard leverage against his cock, a moment's respite, and then it starts over again. It feels so damned good that Charles can hardly think straight, but whatever's going on in Erik's mind--he might not have permission, might be best off letting this go, but he can't. He wants to know.

He slips into Erik's thoughts, stealing in past the boundaries Erik's been so careful to hold up between them. Walls of distraction, gates that lead to the wrong places entirely. Erik's mind is like a maze, and Charles is just beginning to feel a little smug about his ability to sneak around undetected when Erik grips his cock, hard, and murmurs, "What are you looking for?"

It jolts Charles, shakes him, and more to the point, that grip on his cock _hurts_. He's starting to sweat at the temples, but he resists the urge to answer with his mind. "What?"

Erik releases his cock and drags his fingernails down the center of Charles's chest, leaving white streaks that bloom red afterwards. "You normally beg quite a bit more than this when I'm hurting you. What are you trying to find?"

Charles sighs. Obfuscation is one thing; outright lies are another. "I'm not sure," he admits, quietly, sucking in a breath when Erik waves a hand to undo the hook on the front of his trousers and then reaches in one-handed to undo the inner button as well. The zipper comes down slowly, almost agonizingly so, but Charles doesn't move or even breathe until it's all the way down.

When Erik slides his hand into Charles's open fly, Charles gasps out loud. Erik's hand is warmer now, tighter against the silk of Charles's boxers than it was before, and now the pressure is almost skin-to-skin, not muted the way it was when Erik was touching him through his trousers, too. Charles rocks his hips up, growing more desperate by the moment.

"What sent you into my mind this time?" Erik whispers. "There must have been something."

"No-- _yes_ \--" Charles licks his lips--and then braces himself, because Erik's squeezing again, tight enough to make Charles curl in against the pain. " _Erik_!"

"Tell me," Erik says, and there's that sensation again, something rough--it isn't anger, isn't frustration, but there's more on the line than sex, much more than that for Erik. Charles looks straight into Erik's eyes and brushes his temple with his fingers, asking permission, maybe, or giving Erik a warning.

Erik's expression is a warning of its own, and as Charles dives in, Erik tightens his grip again, sending pain sparking through Charles's body as Charles's mind goes looking for the source of that dark ghost of a feeling.

There's no subtlety anymore, no pretense that Erik doesn't know he's here. Erik knows, and he isn't insisting Charles stop or pushing him away. He isn't walking out of the room. He's looking down at Charles, hurting him, giving him that rocking pressure against his shaft and the tight grasping pain in his balls, and Charles is steadily going mad from it.

But not before he gets what he wants, damn it; not before he finds out what Erik's holding back. He waits for the next squeeze, the next tight, controlled burst of pain, and when it sparks off a feeling in Erik, he follows the trail until he's wound up in a snarl of emotion, things Erik might be able to name or might not, might know about and might just treat as instinct. This should be delicate work, Charles should be trying to finesse the different strands into words and sentiments and truths, but with the distraction of Erik's pain it's more like standing in an echo chamber, waiting to find out what comes up.

 _Pain_ , bright and blinding, and the feelings reverberate around him: _want need hurt yes_ , blurry hints of emotion at best.

A moment's respite, Erik's thoughts and feelings returning to center, and then the hurting starts again. Charles knows his whole body is straining up toward Erik's hand, can't help but move even though he's deep in Erik's mind, but when his motions set off a reaction in Erik, Charles focuses as deeply as he can, listening.

 _Yes this more **mine**_...

There. A knot at the center of all this; something Charles can hold onto. He grabs for it, holds it and watches it, leaves himself open to it as Erik lets him breathe again.

And when the pain flares for him, Charles tugs at a strand and the knot comes undone, Erik's thoughts spilling over him.

 _Mine, Charles, don't want anyone else to see him like this, touch him like this, mine, always, won't share, won't let him go--_

Charles takes in a breath and pulls back out of Erik's mind, staring up at him. Erik looks--not shaken, no, more sure of himself than ever.

"Do you want me to say it?" he asks, and Charles reaches down, covers Erik's hand with his own, feels the strength in Erik's long fingers. He bites his lip and nods, just once, and when Erik's grip goes tight again, Erik bends his head down and whispers in Charles's ear.

"You're _mine_ , Xavier," Erik whispers; the pain sparks through Charles like lightning, like life. "No one else touches you, not like this, not unless I say--"

Charles grabs Erik by the wrist and thrusts up hard against his hand; he jerks underneath Erik's grip, balls tight and aching, cock trapped, but he's coming all the same, pulse after pulse staining his boxers, leaving Erik's palm damp. He's going to be sore, he knows, but it's the best kind of sore.

He squirms out from under Erik's grip and lets his head fall back on the bed, finally closing his eyes. "God, Erik."

"Satisfied?" Erik murmurs.

Charles blinks up at him; he knows Erik wasn't talking about the sex. "Erik..."

"Did you like dragging that out of me?"

Charles doesn't answer that. Erik takes his hand out of Charles's fly and runs it up his chest, centering his palm at the base of Charles's throat. His hand is damp, and it smells like Charles's come, and if Erik moved his hand up just another inch or two, it could be a threat.

But it isn't. Erik bends his head down and kisses Charles, and Charles feels marked, owned, like he belongs to Erik every bit as much as Erik said he did.

"I might have told you if I'd ever thought to put it into words," Erik murmurs, "but as it happens, I've never had anyone about whom I could be possessive." His fingertips come up and tease Charles's throat; Charles takes a deep breath and nods. "It doesn't distress you."

"No."

"You're not arguing it."

Charles glances away, certain his emotions will be obvious on his face if he keeps looking at Erik. "No."

Erik just nods, though, and he sweeps his fingertips back and forth over Charles's throat. "I think we'll want to talk about this later," he says softly; Charles nods, still looking away. "Later," Erik promises, and when he eases himself off the bed and slips out of his jeans, Charles turns back, licking his lips and ready for whatever ways Erik might want to stake his claim.

 _-end-_


End file.
